


Cacoethes

by Skyknight1987



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyknight1987/pseuds/Skyknight1987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prank gone wrong leaves Clarke feverish, bedridden and in a bad mood. Bellamy stays to take care of her. In more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cacoethes

"No."  
  
"Come on"  
  
"No way."  
  
"Try it."  
  
"No _freaking_ way _._ "  
  
"Come on, Princess, live a little."  
  
Clarke crossed her arms and glared at Bellamy. "Say what you like," she said frostily. "But under no circumstances am I going in there. _And you can't make me_." She turned to look at the lake ten feet below where a dozen kids were currently splashing around and laughing.  
  
"Come on, Griffin, the water's fine," Monty shouted.  
  
"No thank you," Clarke shouted back. "I'm quite happy here thanks. You idiots want to tempt fate, go right ahead, but forgive me if I don't want to join you."  
  
She completely missed the devilish grin that crossed Bellamy's face. Seconds later she found herself swept off her feet as he scooped her up and carried her to the water's edge.  
  
"No. Bellamy. Put me down." She beat her fists uselessly against his chest. "Put me down."  
  
"Take a deep breath, Princess," he said in a sing-song voice.  
  
"No. _Don't you dare_."  
  
"Going in 3…2…1…"  
  
"I hate you," Clarke said in a small voice.  
  
A second later she splashed into the icy water, still wrapped in Bellamy's arms.  
  
"I hate you," she said with clenched teeth, once she had gotten over the shock of the cold water. " _I hate you_."

* * *

 

"I hate you," Clarke moaned.  
  
Bellamy bit back a laugh. "Sorry, Princess."  
  
"Well, _sorry_ isn't going to cut it this time, mister," Clarke fumed.  
  
"I _said_ I'm sorry, Princess," Bellamy said. To his credit, he looked somewhat repentant. Which, considering the fact that it was Bellamy delivering the half assed apology, was a fairly big deal. "Besides, how was I supposed to know that you'd end up with a fever?"  
  
"You drop me, fully clothed, in _freezing water_ ," Clarke said acidly. "And then you're actually acting surprised that I ended up with the chills?"  
  
"None of the others ended up bedridden," Bellamy said defensively.  
  
"None of the others _walked_ back to camp in _soaking wet clothes_ ," Clarke grumbled. "Besides most of you are probably used to the cold. I'm not."  
  
She regretted the words, the moment they left her mouth. It was true though. Most of the kids at the camp were from Walden or one of the other fringe stations, where power outages were common and environmental systems were unreliable. As a result, temperatures in those stations could, and sometimes did, drop to near freezing. Residents and workers in those sectors had grown used to the cold and sudden shifts in temperature. It was just one more fact of life on the Ark. Clarke, however, had been born and raised on Phoenix, one of the core stations on the Ark. Phoenix, boasting of the central systems for the Ark as well as the residence of the majority of the Ark's upper society, such as it was, had well maintained environmental systems. It wasn't Clarke's fault that she had never needed to get used to freezing temperatures, but she felt terrible having brought that up.  
  
It faded once she remembered just whose fault it was that she was in this mess in the first place.  
  
If Bellamy noticed, or was offended, he showed no sign of it.  
  
"Can I get you anything?" he asked. Any other time, Clarke would have been touched and maybe a little flattered at his concern. Right now however, she wasn't feeling very charitable.  
  
"No," she grumbled.  
  
"Soup?"  
  
"No." Clarke had once heard her mother say that medical personnel often made for the worst patients. It was a paradox that she was starting to discover for herself. The hard way.  
  
"Extra blankets?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Is there anything you want?"  
  
"I want you to paint a bulls-eye on your face and walk into the nearest Grounder settlement," she said peevishly.  
  
Bellamy actually chuckled at that one. It did nothing to improve Clarke's frame of mind. "I meant is there anything you want _other_ than me killing myself in an extremely gory manner?"  
  
"I want you to get the hell out and leave me alone," Clarke said testily, turning away and burrowing under her blanket. Not that she expected him to be deterred by something so silly as a dismissal and a reasonable expectation of privacy. She was utterly unsurprised therefore when Bellamy ignored her and got under the blankets nest to her spooning her against his chest.  
  
"I'm sorry, princess," he said, kissing her neck. "I didn't think you'd get sick." He pulled the hem of her shirt out of her jeans and slid his hand under her shirt to stroke the skin of her abdomen.  
  
"Well I did," Clarke said petulantly. "Do you have any idea, just how much work I have that needs doing right now? I have _atleast_ a dozen patients with various injuries that I need to check up on And unlike you I can't just fob off my duties to my cronies. I don't _have_ cronies that I can fob off my work to."  
  
Bellamy silenced her with a finger against her lips. "Easy there, princess," he said with an uncharacteristic gentleness, going back to tracing invisible patterns on her stomach with his fingers. "You do have others who can take up the slack for you for a day. You deserve time off."  
  
"Hell, of a way to get me to take the day off."  
  
"It was the _only_ way to get you to take the day off," he said, nuzzling against her neck. "I need you awake and alert. You're no use to anyone if you're half dead on your feet."  
  
"The others aren't going to be happy about you showing favoritism," Clarke warned half-heartedly. She couldn't deny however that there was something appealing about having an ironclad excuse to take a break. It made for a nice change. Let someone else argue with all the idiots who seemed to forget all her warnings and instructions the moment they walked out of her medbay.  
  
"Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me."  
  
"Fine, just get someone to tell Jasper that I'm taking his remaining moonshine. _All of it_."  
  
" _What_? Why?"  
  
"Because," she replied patiently, "that moonshine is all that we have to use as anesthetic and antiseptic. That stuff makes for a decent cleaning agent, for lack of a better alternative."  
  
"You're gonna use that stuff to swab the medical beds?" Bellamy asked aghast.  
  
"I'm going to use it to sterilize the instruments that I use to dig thorns, gravel, splinters, shards and god knows what else out from under your skin, _and_ the beds on which you lie bleeding while I do it _and_ your wounds once I am done cleaning them _and_ the needle and thread that I use to sew them closed. And if I manage to do it properly, I will hopefully be able to keep the wounds from going septic and killing you in a long drawn out and extremely unpleasant way. And the rate at which you idiots keep turning up in my medbay with your collection of cuts and bruises, I'm going to need every single quart of it. So that moonshine is off the drinks menu until Jasper manages to drum up a fresh batch."  
  
"You can't confiscate the booze," Bellamy said sounding scandalized. "We need that booze for…stuff."  
  
"Well you're not getting any," she said tartly. She stiffened as Bellamy's fingers began to play with the topmost button of her shirt. "And just what the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Just trying to make you feel better," he murmured, planting more kisses on her neck. He had managed to undo the first two buttons and was moving onto the third.  
  
"Oh really?" she drawled. "And just how is exerting myself supposed to make me feel better?"  
  
"You don't have to do anything. All you have to do is lie back." He undid the fourth button and slipped his hand under her shirt. Clarke stifled a moan as he traced a line along the curve of her breasts. "And let me take care of you."  
  
"When I said that you're not getting any, I didn't just mean the moonshine," Clarke grumbled. But she shifted to allow him easier access to her neck.  
  
"This isn't getting some," Bellamy smirked, nipping at her throat. "This is me apologizing."  
  
"It is, huh? Well, my version of apologizing involves a bit more groveling and a little less getting your way."  
  
"Well it is as close to one as you are gonna get, so take it or leave it."  
  
Clarke rolled her eyes. "How exactly is it that you can have your way with a girl and make it sound like you're doing her a favor?" she demanded.  
  
"It's an art," he said. He had undone seven buttons. The eighth one was almost out. He rolled her onto her back and propped himself over her, tracing his mouth along her throat. "Besides, the way I see it, you're the one getting some."  
  
Clarke pointedly turned away. "I'm ignoring you," she said coolly. The effect was somewhat spoiled when Bellamy bit down softly against the side of her neck, causing her to squeak out the last word.  
  
"Uh-huh," he drawled, not deterred in the slightest. "Suit yourself, Princess." He pulled her shirt aside to bare one shoulder, before tracing a path from her shoulder to her ear and back, kissing, and occasionally nipping her skin. Marking her. Branding her as his.  
  
She was so caught up in the sensation that she completely missed the sound of footsteps approaching the tent.  
  
_"Clarke,"_ a voice called from outside the tent, rudely jerking her back to reality. The flap rustled and Clarke twisted around with a surge of panic as she realized that whoever was outside was preparing to come in.  
  
"Wait…stop…don't come in here," she blurted. The person outside the tent paused.  
  
_"Why? What's wrong?"_  
  
Bellamy continued to kiss her unconcernedly, shifting his attention to her other shoulder.  
  
"Uh, I'm feverish," Clarke said thinking quickly. Not easy, with Bellamy nipping on her collarbone. "Don't come in here. Can't risk you catching it too."  
  
_"Oh, okay,"_ the girl (Su Lin. Her name was Su Lin. Clarke remembered her now. One of the younger ones) said and walked around the tent to sit on the other side of the canvas from where Clarke was lying down. " _We've got a problem_."  
  
Clarke rolled her eyes. "What is it now?" she grumbled.  
  
_"It's Monty. He twisted his foot while scouting. Says it hurts to walk. You should probably come take a look at it."_  
  
"It's not a good idea for me to go anywhere near the medbay," Clarke replied. "You're going to have to deal with this one."  
  
_"You're going to have to walk me through it._ "  
  
Bellamy undid the ninth and final button and pushed her shirt open to expose her chest to the cool air in the tent, glancing up to see her reaction.  
  
She was giving him The Look. "Don't even think about it," she hissed, before turning her attention back to Su Lin. "The first thing you need to do is check whether his ankle is broken."  
  
He smirked wordlessly before lowering his head to bite down gently on her breast, making her arch against his mouth.  
  
_"Already done,"_ Su Lin interrupted. " _Doesn't look like anything is broken. Just a sprain then_."  
  
Bellamy licked away at the bite, his mouth moving in soft, slow circles before he enveloped her nipple in his mouth.  
  
Clarke gripped the sides of the mattress with both hands, trying to keep herself from audibly thrashing, or moaning, and maybe scarring Su Lin for life.  
  
"Uh…okay. Any other injuries?" she managed to speak.  
  
" _He's also got a deep gash above that ankle. Doesn't look like its hit anything vital though_."  
  
Clarke took a deep breath, trying hard to concentrate on the job at hand.  
  
"Okay," she said, fighting to keep her voice even. "First thing you need is to get him to take the weight off that ankle. Get him to lie down on one of the beds in the medbay and prop his injured leg up above the level of his heart."  
  
_"Got it,"_ Su Lin said briskly.  
  
"You'll need to clean his wound first before you do anything else. Get some of Jasper's moonshine and use it to swab the wound and the surrounding skin. It's going to be really painful, so get someone to hold Monty down while you do it."  
  
_"Okay,"_ Su Lin said. She paused for a moment. " _Are you alright? You sound really weird._ "  
  
Bellamy moved to her other breast, latching on this time and sucking slightly.  
  
Clarke covered her gasp with a fake coughing fit. "Stop that," she hissed at Bellamy in a low voice. "She's right outside."  
  
"Well then, we'll just have to be quiet, won't we?" he whispered back, the smirk never leaving his face.  
  
_"Clarke, you okay?"_ Su Lin pressed.  
  
"I'm fine," Clarke rasped, her fingers tangled in Bellamy's head as she tried halfheartedly to push him away. He gave her a mock wounded look and shifted away from her breast. "Once you're done cleaning the wound, sterilize a needle and thread and stitch it back together."  
  
Bellamy traced a slow burning trail down her bare stomach, pausing at the waistband of her jeans and tracing her midriff with his mouth."  
  
"You need to pull the edges of the wound as close as possible." It was a struggle to keep her voice steady. She was actually proud of how well she was doing under the circumstances.  
  
Until Bellamy unbuttoned her jeans…  
  
"Make the stitches as small as possible, but not too small. Avoid any tattered piece of skin that looks like it might pull free."  
  
…and pulled them off her legs.  
  
_"Got it,"_ Su Lin said briskly. Another pause. _"Clarke are you_ sure _you're okay?"_  
  
Bellamy's mouth moved to her hip, tracing small circles with his tongue as he traced a path down her bare leg.  
  
"Never mind that," Clarke said hoarsely. "Pay attention to this next part. It's important."  
  
_"Okay,"_ said Su Lin, sounding doubtful.  
  
Bellamy's mouth switched to her other leg and began the return trip back up.  
  
"You're going to have to put his ankle on ice," Clarke began.  
  
_"We don't_ have _any ice,"_ Su Lin interrupted.  
  
"Oh…right," Clarke said flustered. "Well, soak some bandages in the lake water and wrap his foot in them for about fifteen minutes."  
  
Bellamy pressed his mouth at the junction of her legs. Clarke just barely managed to stifle her scream. He raised his head to look at her inquiringly, before dipping his head down to take a long experimental lick. Before long Clarke found herself unconsciously matching his rhythm, her hips jerking up to meet his tongue every time he lapped at her.  
  
_"Clarke?"_ Su Lin prompted.  
  
"Oh…right…where was I?"  
  
_"Wrap his foot in cold bandages for fifteen minutes."_  
  
Bellamy paused for a moment before shifting slightly and turning to hook one of Clarke's legs over his shoulder before returning is mouth down, this time making small thrusting movements with his tongue that caused Clarke to arch her back.  
  
She clenched her teeth and forced herself to concentrate. "Right…right…Bandage his ankle tightly with even pressure. Make sure the bandage isn't so tight that it cuts off the blood flow."  
  
An instant later Bellamy's tongue was flicking against her clit as he pressed two fingers inside her.  
  
"He sh…shouldn't put weight on it. G…get Raven to fix him with some kind of c…crutch."  
  
Bellamy added a third finger  
  
Clarke pressed a hand across her mouth as she convulsed. Hard.  
  
_"Got it,"_ Su Lin said. _"Is that it?"_  
  
Bellamy wiped his mouth with a self-satisfied grin and trailed his way back up her stomach and breasts before moving to her throat.  
  
"That's it for now," Clarke said, utterly spent. "I'll check up on him later."  
  
_"Okay."_ The bushes behind the tent rustled as Su Lin got up to leave. _"Clarke? Get some rest. You sound really knackered."_  
  
Clarke didn't trust herself to speak. She just stuffed her wrist in her mouth and listened to Su Lin walking away.  
  
 "I disagree," Bellamy said, breaking the silence. "I'd say you look a whole lot better." He leered at her extremely naked body.  
  
"I hate you," Clarke moaned, flinging a hand over her eyes. "I really, _really_ , REALLY hate you."  
  
"No you don't," he said with his trademark infuriating smirk. "Admit it, you enjoyed that."  
  
The worst part was that he was absolutely right.


End file.
